


What to do when a good man hurts you

by fellshish



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Angst with a Happy Ending, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Drinking Games, Episode Fix-it, Episode: s15e18 Despair - Castiel's Confession Scene, First Kiss, Fix-It, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Never Have I Ever, POV Dean Winchester, Spoilers for Episode: s15e18 Despair, The Empty (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:48:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28191945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fellshish/pseuds/fellshish
Summary: Cas starts confessing his love for Dean. But if he experiences even a second of happiness, the Empty will take him. So Dean can only think of one way to save him. He must turn down Cas. And he must be as cruel as possible about it. Not a flicker of hope.Or: the [holding in a slur] meme, for real. With happy ending.Or: I made 15x18 worse before I fixed it.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 64
Kudos: 246





	1. Dean can’t reciprocate

It’s pretty late in Cas’ speech when Dean starts to realise what he’s doing. Why Cas is so emotional while Death is banging on the door like it’s a damn Kubrick movie. Why he brought up the Empty, and a deal -

To take him forever.

“...You raised your little brother for love, you fought for this whole world for love, THAT is who you are. You're the most... caring man on Earth…” 

That’s when it hits him. Like a hammer. This is a love confession. Cas _loves_ him. The moment of happiness that would kill Cas… 

It’s _him_.

Dean’s jaw clenches. It’s suddenly so clear now.

Dean can’t reciprocate.

He can feel moisture rising to his eyes. But he can’t give into that. No. For now it’s important to save Cas’ life. And the world, too, maybe. What good is the angel in the Empty? Can’t Cas see? They just gotta hold out long enough for her mortal wound to do Death in, damn it. 

“...I cared about the whole world, because of you. You changed me Dean..."

Dean must turn down Cas to save his life. And he must be as cruel as possible about it. Not a _flicker_ of hope, of happiness.

“Oh”, Dean says, flashing a boyish grin on his face. “So you’re telling me all this time you’ve been a goddamn pansy? Is that it?”

This throws Cas off, and the angel falls quiet. Cas takes half a step back, blinking. 

Dean leans in. “The one with a crack in his chassis, that’s what Chuck was alluding to, isn’t it? God _hates_ your kind, Castiel.”

 _Castiel_. Dean can see that name strike Cas like a lashing. But he just cannot say Cas. All feeling of familiarity must be broken. 

“Dean, this- this isn’t you…” Cas says.

For a brief moment, Dean’s heart hurts. Oh, Cas. He trusts him so blindly, so openly. 

“Isn’t it?” Dean raises his voice. “You’re forgetting who you’re talking to, boy.”

Boy? Dean can feel his own dad echoing out of his mouth. God he hates himself, now. 

But this isn’t about him. This is for Cas.

“When you found me, I was Alastair’s best student in hell. Do you think that was a coincidence?” 

“Don’t do this, Dean,” Cas says, a hesitation in his voice, almost desperation. 

“I was enjoying it, Castiel. Every single soul I hurt, every drop of blood I spilled on my knife, every… every piece of skin I peeled. It was a drug and I wanted more, every day. Man, I regret not giving in sooner than those 30 years.”

“You were brave, you were a-“

“ _Don’t_ make me into a hero. They carved me into a new animal in hell. But the one thing I never dared to admit to anyone - I _loved_ it.”

Cas looks away. “No.”

Dean lets a detached mask slide over his face, the way he did when he had a squirming Alastair on the rack. Not really speaking to Cas, pretending he is see-through. 

“You were a foolish little queer angel. They were right. The minute you laid a hand on me in hell, you were lost. The very touch of me corrupted. ’Cause yeah…. I’ve always asked myself, if you’d seen all of my soul, how come you had missed those very darkest bits?” 

Dean swallows hard. This last part is very close to the truth. There is a darkness in him, still. It’s pouring out of him, now, a new kind of torture.

And Cas looks like he’s at his breaking point.

“Dean-“

“The thing is, as you discovered your humanity, I’d already lost mine. I was a burnt and broken shell of a man.”  
  


Those words, once spoken by Cas, had always stuck with Dean.

It’s true, Dean thinks. He did lose his humanity, during those forty years in hell. The things he did to people, inside and outside of hell. They are unspeakable. He did corrupt. This only proves it further. Because why else could he be this cruel to Cas?

“I was no more human than you, a freak. I was filled with rage and anger and blood lust. How could you not see that? Guess now I know you were just perverted. You just _liked_ this shell.”

It physically hurts Dean to say the next words.

“You lusted after me, you little fag. You don’t think I knew? Every one of your angel friends warned me about it. Even demons saw it.”

Cas lifts his chin, he looks resigned. And in a way it disappoints Dean - that Cas is starting to believe it. So easily.

“So yeah. This _is_ me. I was always this Dean, but you just couldn’t see it. I let you keep your dumb beliefs that I had an ounce of humanity in me still. Truth is, the only interesting feature about you is that you’re an angel, Sammy and I, we could use your supernatural strength.”

“You - you said we were family,” Cas says quietly. The light in him is fading. 

“Family? Bobby’s family, Castiel. You were a convenient weapon of mass destruction, though a very annoying one at times. Sam and I often complained how hard it was to put up with you.”

Cas quietly drops his gaze to his shoes. As if something has fallen.

Dean licks his lips. Now he must go in for the kill.

He lets his eyes grow cold.

“It’s not even that I don’t like men. I’ve been around, everybody knows it. Hell, _Crowley_ knows. Truth is, I’d even rather fuck Jimmy fucking Novak than you. I _hate_ you, Castiel.”

Cas looks up, eyes filled with tears.

He must really believe it. He’s not even fighting back anymore. It tugs at Dean’s heart.

Cas must have already believed he was worth very little to him. 

A tear finally slides down Cas’ cheek.

This - this is good, Dean reminds himself. This was the goal. No moment of happiness, no Empty. They’ll escape this situation the old fashioned way, by fighting, and Dean will…. let Cas down more gently, until they’ve saved the world from Chuck, and then maybe they can travel to the Empty together and strike a new deal, and then maybe… just maybe….

The door crashes open. It’s Billie, it’s Death, she’s finally managed to break through the warding, and is looking at them with absolute lust for revenge in her eyes.

Cas looks at her, then quickly back at Dean. 

“The happiness isn’t in the _having_ , Dean,” he says.

Dean blinks. What does that mean?

“I love you,” Cas pronounces every word carefully. 

It feels like a punch to Dean’s gut. 

There’s a gurgling sound behind him. He looks over his shoulder, tears filling up his eyes as he watches a black oily goo drawing a shape on the wall. 

Cas grips his shoulder - the one he first touched, all those years ago - and Dean just passively looks at it, confused. Then, Cas pushes Dean onto the floor.

No goodbye.

Cas closes his eyes, and the Emptiness takes him, and Death.

Dean sits up, back against the wall. His whole body is shaking. Cas is gone. Cas is gone, and the last thing he told him was he hated him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading <3 Sorry for all the pain.
> 
> Brief reminder that this is tagged as angst with a happy ending...
> 
> The title is from Taylor Swift’s song Happiness, the full lyric is: No one teaches you what to do / when a good man hurts you


	2. Still beautiful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas got sent to the Empty anyway, even though Dean broke his heart. Now what?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have planted a knife in all of you. Now I’m slowly pulling it out.

The whole world is empty. Cas is in the Empty but also the _whole world_ is empty when Dean comes back.

Dean never knew something so poetic could be so cruel.

Dean tells Jack and Sam the bare minimum, when he first meets them in the unbearable endlessness that is the abandoned Earth. He can’t look Jack in the eyes, can’t tell him how he _tortured_ his dad in the last minutes of his life. 

Hell. Looking back, he would have killed Cas with his own bare hands if it meant just touching him one last time.

At first, Jack tries to ask more questions, but Sam quickly understands to leave him alone. They drive back to the bunker in silence, Dean with his foot on the gas like he is pressing down his boot on Death’s face. 

How can he bear to live with himself, carelessly carry on, play Chuck’s endgame on an empty board? 

Dean turns to drinking. Anything to stop hearing… _you did everything for love_. 

It’s day after day of hangovers. But he never takes an aspirin. He feels like he deserves the pain. And every day he prays for Chuck to come and finish him off. He is here, isn’t he? A sitting duck? 

But the coward doesn’t show. Day after day. Rinse and repeat. 

Dean only ever goes outside to raid liquor stores in exceedingly large perimeters. 

If it wasn’t for Sam and Jack, he’d be dead.

Because while Dean is wallowing in self pity, chasing complete annihilation of the self, Sam and Jack dutifully research the Empty. Dean resents them for it, resents himself. _They_ wouldn’t abandon Cas, no.

Eventually they find a spell to send a human to the Empty. The ingredients aren’t hard to get by. But to Dean, the price is high. 

Sobriety.

It is absolute hell to stay sober for 24 hours. Not because his body craves a drink - it does, and it hurts - but because his mind is not nearly cloudy enough. 

He keeps remembering Cas’ tear as it slid down his face, even though he’d stubbornly, bravely been holding it in. 

His mind keeps going back to Cas pouring his heart out. He keeps reliving how he destroyed Cas - and for what? Only for the Empty to take him anyway. Cas died thinking that Dean never even cared.

Dean is remembering all of this as he looks at the tear in the wall, the gateway to the Empty that is, under extraordinary pressure, opening right in front of his eyes. 

“Go! Now!” Sam yells at him. 

“Go!” Jack yells.

Both of them are staying behind. Dean insisted. This is for him to fix alone. 

But how - how can he face Cas? 

Dean clenches his jaw.

How can he leave him in there?

Dean steps through the portal. 

In an instant, everything is different. A new kind of emptiness. 

It feels like the veil between consciousness and sleep. A complete lack of _everything_. It takes him a few seconds to adjust. To have his body still feel like something in the middle of pure nothing. 

No body is meant to be awake here.

Suddenly, a figure materialises next to him. 

It’s Jack. 

“Jack, no!” Dean says. “Go back!”

“Dean, it’s _Cas_ ,” Jack states, simply. 

“It’s dangerous for you here, Jack. The Empty has unfinished business with you. It could… I couldn’t…”

“Sam and I were never going to let you go alone, Dean. You’re not alone.”

Dean averts his gaze. Jack wouldn’t help him if he knew the truth. 

“We have 58 minutes,” Jack reminds him. 

Dean checks his wristwatch. He - they - have an hour. That’s how long the spell will hold the door ajar. 

The boy’s eyes flicker all around. “Something is not as it was.”

After Billie sent Jack into the Empty to safely ‘explode’, it had been made Loud. But what did that mean? The Empty did not strike Dean as particularly noisy. On the contrary, there was something unsettling about the quiet. Quiet implies a counterpart of noise. This was just… absence. The way a hole in the wall is just there by courtesy of the bricks, it is not anything in itself. It is a shortage of the other. 

“Let’s get a move on,” Dean says, and they start walking. 

It seems entirely impossible to find Cas in this place. But from Jack and Cas’ previous experiences in the Emtpy, it would seem like things find you, not the other way around. Dean tries to trust, focuses on thinking about Cas. 

“Cas?” He says, hesitantly, into the void.

“Cas! Cas!” Jack yells, following his lead.

Not even an echo. The sound just seems to carry on indefinitely.

They walk for what feels like hours, but every time Dean checks his watch, only a minute has passed. 

Suddenly, a shape appears in their path.

Dean startles. “Chuck!” 

“Oh hi, Dean”, Chuck smiles. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“How did you get here? What did you do to Sam?” Jack asks, voice rising and eyes fuming.

“Oh, Sam,” Chuck says. “Sam is boring. Don’t worry about him. Worry about what I can do to you, here.”

“You have no power here,” Dean says.

“Oh but we know that’s a lie, don’t we Dean? I am all powerful,” Chuck says. “It’s just _getting here_ that’s tricky, but special thanks to your witch bitch brother for that.”

Dean looks away. 

“So we meet again,” Chuck continues. “A faithless man and God. Why don’t you get on your knees and pray?”

Chuck lifts a hand and Dean can feel an invisible force dragging him downward. He struggles against it desperately.

“Leave him alone,” Jack demands.

The force lifts, but that’s of no relief to Dean, because Chuck’s attention turns to Jack.

“Interesting - this is too good,” Chuck says, studying both of them. “You haven’t told him, have you? What you did to poor old Cas?”

Dean would rather be on his knees receiving blows to his stomach.

“Shut up,” Jack says.

A different kind of blow. Jacks trusts him still, so purely, as Cas did.

“...What you told him in his time of dying? It really was too good, Dean, I have to say. Almost like a telenovela. But a lot more pathetic.”

“What - what’s he talking about, Dean?” Jack says.

Chuck smiles. “Jack, you had to be there. Really, you had to.”

Dean feels all the energy drain out of his arms. He has nothing. No defense against this. 

Jack will come to the only possible conclusion soon. That he should rescue Cas and leave Dean behind.

It’s what he deserves, anyway. 

Chuck’s eyes are straight up sparkling now. “You never asked how Cas ended up in the Empty?”

Dean can see Jack glancing at him, unsure. Because Jack did ask. Dean just never had the guts to face him.

“Don’t you remember, Jack? You were there when he made his deal, after all.”

“The…” Jack frowns. “The moment of true happiness?”

“Ding ding.”

Dean looks down. “Jack, we should.. I’ll explain later. We should find…”

“Oh like you explained earlier?” Chuck interrupts. “Jack, Dean is too much of a coward to tell you the truth. What does he think you are? A child?”

Jack doesn’t reply, but Dean can feel the tension radiating out of his body.

“Why don’t you tell him Cas’ last words, Dean. The kid deserves to know.”

Jack slowly turns his head toward Dean. A question written all over his face.

Dean swallows. It feels like they are stacking anvil upon anvil upon his chest. 

He can’t say it.

“ _I love you_ ,” Chuck says, and laughs loudly. “Isn’t that grand?”

Jack stares at Chuck.

“Bla bla, your gay dads are gay, no surprise,” Chuck continues. “But you know what little Dean here said? Oh Dean. Good ol’ John Winchester would be so proud of you.”

Dean can’t allow himself to react. He can’t give Chuck the satisfaction. But he can sense Jack come to a realisation, and it is worse than going through hell and back, he would give anything not to have Jack feel this. 

“I couldn’t have written it better myself. Dean here interrupted Cas’ heartfelt speech - twelve years of repression, pouring out so beautifully - to call him a faggy fruity angel.”

Now Jack’s head does turn. Dean fixes his eyes on the floor. He can’t bear to look at him.

“Gave him a whole speech about how disgusted Cas made him feel. You see, Dean loves cars and chicks. As I intended, some people say.”

Dean can see Jack’s hand curling up into a fist. 

“Cas died hearing the one man he loved more than anyone, tell him he _hated_ him.” Chuck finishes him off, like sliding a knife out a body. 

“You should leave,” Jack says. 

Chuck nods. “Tell him, kid.”

“I meant you, Chuck,” Jack says, his eyes nearly shooting fire. 

Dean swallows. What?

Chuck shrugs. “As you wish. I have some other social calls to do here.”

“No!” Dean yells, as if suddenly waking from a daze. This might be their chance. He lifts his hand. “Wait. Please save Cas. Please. You have power here.”

Chuck raises an eyebrow, seemingly surprised.

Dean falls to his knees. “Please… you can leave me here. Just save Cas.”

“Oh Dean. This isn’t any fun. Don’t be pathetic.” 

Dean shakes his head. No. It’s not pathetic to do anything to save Cas. He is worth it.

“Take us to him,” he pleads.

“Oh Dean.” Chuck laughs loudly. “What makes you think Cas _wants_ to see you?”

Dean feels all air leave his body.

Chuck tilts his head, then, in a flash, he is gone.

Dean collapses, and Jack rushes to his side. And Dean is ready for a beating, because whatever is coming, it’s what he deserves. 

But Jack puts his hands on the sides of Dean’s face, and gently lifts it up.

“Dean, when we first met, do you remember? You hated me, remember? Because Cas died because of me.”

Dean opens his eyes, through wet lashes. God, he really did fail Jack from his very first minutes on Earth, didn’t he?

“You couldn’t even look at me, you told Sam as much. Sam, he saw the good in me when even I wasn’t sure. I was the son of Lucifer, so how much of that darkness was inside me? Look, what I am trying to say is, you hated me because I killed Cas. And for the past weeks, now I understand. You hated _yourself_ for killing Cas.”

Dean feels his face distort in Jack’s hands.

“Dean, talk to me.”

Suddenly, a voice comes from behind Jack.

“How dare you show your face in here again?”

Meg. Or rather - Dean corrects himself - the Empty, personified. The Shadow, the being that controls the Empty, assuming her form.

They both scramble to get up. The Shadow looks down on them from her throne.

Man up, Dean tells himself. 

“I didn’t mean to explode like that,” Jack says. “I couldn’t stop it.”

“You made it loud. Oh the things I’m about to do to you-“

“No!” Dean calls out. “No, that would be stupid.”

The Shadow turns her attention to him, raising her eyebrows. 

“Excuse me?”

“Jack is innocent. It was Billie, she flung him in here,” Dean says. “He was just the bomb. The…. instrument.”

_Daddy’s blunt instrument._

The Shadow squints at them.

“And then we gave her to you, remember? Thanks to Cas and I, you got your hands on her.”

“Hm.” She rubs her chin. “I did find extraordinary pleasure in watching her die from her wound.”

“Please help us,” Jack says. 

Dean tenses. _Not killing them_ is already a long shot. But helping?

“You owe us,” Jack says. “And we need Cas.”

“I don’t owe a living being anything, child.” 

“He means we did you a favor with Billie, that’s all. Just… tell us where he is, please?”

If Cas even _wants_ to see them. Him.

The Shadow rubs her legs. “What’s in it for me? Why shouldn’t I just keep you wandering around here, until you die and beyond?”

“My brother - he’s still out there. He won’t leave you alone for a minute if we don’t come back.”

The being seems to consider this. All the Empty wants is peace and quiet, isn’t it?

“I do owe Cas, you could say...”

“What do you mean?” Jack asks.

“When he arrived, the place was buzzing. You’d woken up everyone, Jack. But somehow Cas convinced Billie to silence everyone again, to put them to sleep.”

“How?”

“With all the angels and demons running around, do you think that was in any way pleasant? Billie chose to die in peace, and stay dead in peace. The price Cas paid however was... extensive.”

“What do you mean?” Dean frowns.

“Demons and angels relive their memories here, in a dream-like state. Billie made his everlasting dream to be reliving only his very last moments. Eternally.”

Dean shakes his head. “No-“

“Apparently this deal made Billie happy as a cupcake.”

Jack reaches over and touches Dean’s arm. But he barely registers it. It’s like he’s been hit by a grenade; his ears are ringing. He is scattered.

Why would Cas do that?

“I’ll give you one chance,” the Shadow says, sounding slightly bored already. “Before I come for you. You have fifteen minutes.”

She snaps her fingers and suddenly Dean and Jack are alone again. They’re in another part of the Empty. 

Then Dean sees it. Just a little further, lying on the floor, is Cas. 

“Cas!” Dean cries out.

The angel stirs. He opens his eyes confusedly, and Dean forgets. He forgets Cas probably hates him. He forgets he’s supposed to be careful. He forgets himself.

He runs toward Cas, and desperately cradles his face. A miracle. A miracle.

But Cas flinches away.

It’s like a dagger to Dean’s heart. One he planted there himself.

“Dean,” Cas says, voice hoarse. He blinks up at him, still groggy, still vulnerable. Still beautiful.

“Cas.” More a breath than a name.

“Leave me.”

“No.” Why would he want that?

“You’re not real.”

“What?”

“This is another flavor of torture, but I laugh in your face. I am an angel of the Lord. Think I haven’t been through worse? Send me back to my dream, you are making a fool out of yourself.”

Dean strokes Cas’ cheek with his thumb. “No, I’m as real as it gets and I’m not leaving without you. Sam found a spell, Cas, and we’re - we’ve come to take you home.”

Cas frowns.

“Home? Heaven?”

Dean swallows.

“If you want. But, the bunker…”

“The bunker? You’ve made your feelings about me very clear, Dean.”

“No, I…”

“And then you come here, and pretend to be all noble, because…” Cas glances past Dean, and pain flashes across his features. “Because Jack is here? Is this all a charade for Jack?”

“Cas-“

Cas looks away. “Have some mercy. You’ve killed me a thousand times in my dreams already. Let me stay dead.”

Dean frowns. It suddenly dawns on him. “You didn’t think you deserve to be saved.”

“I-“

“You’ve watched me hurt you a thousand times now, replayed that moment over and over, and never once did you think you deserved _better_?”

“Please-“

“You thought just _being_ , just loving someone and owning up to it, was all the happiness you could achieve?”

Cas looks up, defiantly, his eyes an unbearable slice of heavenly blue. “You _hate_ me.”

“No. It’s not what you think, Cas. Let me explain. When you told me about the deal with the Empty, I panicked. I panicked! I was standing there watching you blow up your whole life, blow up _us_ , and for what!” 

Cas tries to turn away, but Dean keeps his head firmly between his fingers. 

“Look at me. It wasn’t true, Cas.”

Tears sting behind his eyes. The heaviest words still lay on his tongue.

_Say it._

But Cas shakes his head. “Do you need me for another scheme? The strength of an angel? Is that what this is?”

“No, I just need you. I need you. I’m sorry. I thought - honestly, I thought an angel could never care about me that way. Especially one that -“

Dean hesitates.

“What?” Cas asks.

“One that saw _all of me_ in hell.” Dean says quietly, 

Cas blinks. 

“I was a man who believed in demons before I believed in angels. That was who I was, Cas.”

Dean bites his bottom lip. 

Say it. _Say it._

“It _is_ you,” Cas exhales. “It’s not the Empty.”

Cas places his right hand on Dean’s shoulder. Where he always puts it - over the scar. Ever since they met, Cas has been Dean’s missing puzzle piece.

“I thought hurting you might save you from the Empty,” Dean says. He blinks hard and a wet trail leaves his eyes. “And then it didn’t.”

“Happiness is in being yourself even if you’re rejected by the people you love, Dean,” Cas says, frowning. He seems almost… offended. “My love had no conditions.”

This leaves Dean stunned for a few minutes. 

Then he strokes Cas’ hair.

“Cas? Why would you take that deal with Billie to dream our last moment together, forever?”

Cas swallows. “At least that way I was sure I would keep seeing you.”

Dean’s heart hurts. He does not deserve to be loved that much. He simply does not. 

_Say it._

“Cas, I… I…”

“Well isn’t this a touching scene,” Chuck’s voice booms from behind them. 

“Leave us alone, Chuck!” Jack says, angrily. 

Jack comes closer, puts a hand on Dean’s other shoulder, and silently nods at him.

Dean grips Cas tighter.

“Oh no, you didn’t think this would end well, did you?” Chuck replies. “In every universe I’ve defeated you idiots, what did you expect, I am God Himself, you cannot-“  
  


-ZAP-

Suddenly, they’re in the bunker again. Dean, Cas and Jack look right at Sam, who’s rubbing his jaw.

“You’re bleeding,” Jack says.

“Had a little run-in with God,” Sam says. 

Jack smiles. “So it’s just like we thought?”

“Yeah, he did follow you two in there, and if we only kept him busy long enough…. we could trap him in there,” Sam beams. “We did.”

“Forever?” Cas asks.

“Well, until he finds a way out,” Sam says. “Hopefully it will take him a while.”

They all smile. 

“Welcome back dude,” Sam says, hugging Cas. Jack joins in. And then, after a little hesitation, Dean does too. 

Team Free Will, forever. 

And then, in the middle of the hug, Dean finds Cas’ hand and brushes his fingers softly, softly past his. 

It’s a question, a longing, it’s everything still unsaid.

But silently, Cas moves his hand away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, LOOK! This was originally meant to be two chapters, and it was. But as I was editing this chapter after my gf’s feedback, I realised I needed one more chapter for Dean’s and Cas’ emotional arc to be genuine and complete.
> 
> Please forgive me. Thank you all for screaming at me in the comments yesterday, I loved each and every one of you.


	3. Still Dean Winchester

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas are idiots too wrapped up in their own insecurities to realise how the other feels. Sam makes them play Never have I ever.

Dean visits Cas in his room that evening. The angel is sitting on his bed, his face shrouded in shadow. He visibly tenses when Dean opens the door.

“What are you doing on your bed, Cas? I thought angels don’t sleep,” Dean tries to joke. 

“I just spent the equivalent of a lifetime dreaming in the Empty, Dean,” Cas frowns, looking up. “You know this.”

Dean feels a little twinge in his heart. But he needs to push through this. Cas has been acting damn weird. He pulled away from the hug, and he’s been avoiding Dean all day, always finding an excuse to leave the room.

“Look, Cas. I just wanted to clear things up.”

Cas looks at his hands, his palms facing up, his fingers shaking lightly as if they only just had to let go of something.

“No need.”

“I… I know I told you in the Empty, but honestly you seemed a little out of it. I just wanted to make sure you know… what I said to you before you got taken… Well. I didn’t mean it. None of it.”

Cas looks up, quietly contemplating.

“Not any of it?” he asks after a long stare.

“None.”

Dean is trying to gather all his courage. That’s not all he came to _set straight_. But Dean hesitates. Cas seems less than enthusiastic to see him. 

Maybe the Empty gave him enough time to sort out the truth about Dean - he ain’t all that much. Not any of the things Cas was rambling about. Not the most caring man on Earth, not even _close_. 

“What about…” Cas pauses. He looks suddenly so small on the bed. “Did you mean the thing about Crowley?”

“What?”

“Did you… sleep with him?”

Dean blinks, stunned. “No, Cas. Of course not. I only said that to hurt you, so the Empty wouldn’t take you.”

Cas stares at him, seems to mull over that information. Then, he slowly turns his head away. He closes his hands and buries them in his pockets.

“Thank you, Dean,” he tells the floor. “For trying to save me.”

It sounds so cold and sad that Dean is glad he didn’t bring up Benny.

Dean nods. He’s not sure what exactly he did wrong. But the silence is becoming too heavy, and Cas looks like he’s somewhere else.

“Just…” Dean says, before closing the door. “ _Stay_.”

That’s about the only demand he feels entitled to make of Cas right now. 

Maybe Cas needs some time to get over his experiences in the Empty, Dean reckons. And after that, who knows? Hell, he’ll give anything to just get his friend back. 

But Cas doesn’t seem to ‘get over’ it.

Over the course of the next few weeks, Dean notices Cas becoming more and more avoidant. Of course he helps research a solution for the empty Earth, but he carries a stack of library books to his room whenever Dean is around. When Dean bumps into Cas on the way from the bathroom to his bedroom, wearing only a towel, Cas looks absolutely mortified. And when Dean walks in on Cas and Jack playing chess in the war room one night, Dean feels a pang of regret and leaves. 

He wants this. All of this. Secret snacks at midnight, playing games past bedtime, the flickering of candle light on his and Cas’ face.

Why is Cas acting like it’s a burden on him to live here? 

No. Not to live here.

To see Dean.

Dean replays Cas’ speech in his head, over and over.

_I love you._

Was it even a homosexual declaration of love? Dean is not so sure anymore. Cas is an angel after all, who knows how he feels things? If he even wants Dean - _that_ way?

But it has kickstarted an unstoppable force in Dean. He’s like a snowflake rolling down a hill into a huge snowball.

Before Cas made his speech, Dean never even allowed his mind to wander that far. Cas is Cas, you know? But now he sees it. Everything he never allowed himself to name. Every time he lit up with Cas’ touch. Every time his fire died when Cas did. 

He’s… he’s in love with Cas.

_I love you. I love you. I love you._

And now Cas seems to have come back on his words. He’s a shadow in the bunker, more and more resembling a memory every day, and Dean’s world seems all the more empty for it. 

Until one night Dean, Sam and Jack are spread out on the sofas in the Dean Cave when Cas walks in. Cas stops in his tracks when he notices Dean is also in the room.

Oh no, no leaving. Not this time. Dean sits up. 

“Let’s take a break tonight, guys,” he says. “We’re close to solving this thing anyway. We deserve some time off. How about we watch a movie?”

He stands up, stretches his body, and places his hands on his hips.

“What movie?” Jack asks.

“How about _Brokeback Mountain_?” Dean suggests, glancing at Cas.

Cas tenses and slowly turns toward Dean to look him in the eyes. 

“I know you’re not a homophobe, Dean,” he grumbles, voice never lower. “You don’t have to try so hard.”

Dean’s arms drop by his sides. What the…? 

“Let’s play _Never have I ever_ ,” Sam claps his hands. Dean has never seen him sit up so fast in his life.

“What? What are we, a bunch of frat boys?” Dean says, frowning. “Maybe _Spin the bottle_ next? _Dungeons and dragons_?”

Sam frowns. “Weird frat.”

“I wanna play!” Jack says. “Wait, what is it?”

Sam walks to the cupboard and collects four glasses. “Errr, it’s a drinking game, Jack.”

“That’s okay, I’ll have coke.”

“That’s not all it’s _cracked_ up to be,” Dean says, another joke falling flat.

Horror grips his heart. Oh no. Is he the one with the _dad jokes_? 

“I think I’ll pass,” Castiel says, already turning toward the door.

“No!” Sam says. “We eh, we need four peope.”

Cas looks suspicious.

“Otherwise it’s no fun,” Sam explains, quickly throwing Jack a knowing look. 

Dean shakes his head. Unbe-lievable. Does Sam think he’s blind? He can see Sam’s eyes moving between him and Cas. He’s standing _right here_.

So Sam’s noticed some tension. So what? There’s been conflict before, and worse than this. Sam should mind his own damn business, that’s what.

Dean opens his mouth to protest, but reconsiders. Perhaps alcohol _could_ loosen Cas’ tongue, so to speak. 

It could unlock all he’s been struggling with.

Dean clears his throat. “That’s right, Cas. Come on, we deserve a night without worries. Just like the good old days.”

Cas bites his lower lip.

“Please?” Jack asks. “It’ll be like a family night.”

Dean represses a chuckle. _Never have I ever_ is about the furthest from a family game you can get, including _Cards against humanity_. In fact, he’s mostly ever played it with women he wanted to hook up with. 

_Oh_.

Dean can’t linger on that too long, and reaches for the glass of whiskey Sam’s already poured him. He downs it in one go.

“Hey!” Sam protests.

“Sorry, Sam. I need a headstart to level the playing field for lightweights like you.”

Sam's eyes turn sad for a brief flash, though his cheerful mask soon slips back in place. 

“Right, Cas should also only do shots, since angels need more alcohol to really become drunk. Liquor store level, remember Cas? But you stick to sips from now on, Dean,” Sam scolds him.

“Okay, _mom_.”

Since there are no other spots left, Cas takes a seat opposite Dean around the coffee table.

“What are the rules of this game? Is there a board?” Cas asks. 

Sam is the last to sit down. “It’s simple. We each take turns making a statement about things we’ve never done. If you _have_ done the thing, you drink. If you haven’t, you don’t drink.”

Cas frowns. “Well that doesn’t sound very…”

“Never have I ever saved a Winchester from hell,” Sam smiles.

“Oh,” Cas says. “I see. I suppose now _I_ have to drink.” And he downs a shot. “My turn?”

“Yes.”

“Never have I ever… had grace,” he says.

Dean lifts his eyebrows. “You have grace!”

“I’m just trying to catch up to your small playing field, Dean,” Cas says, and he drinks.

Jack’s turn. 

“Never have I ever… allowed my adopted Nephilim son to eat literal hearts,” Jack says.

Dean laughs. This is no normal family, that much is certain.

Castiel takes another shot, reluctantly. “Only to save the world, let’s not make a habit of it.”

“Just helping you catch up,” Jack smiles.

Right. Dean swirls his glass between his fingers, studying the liquid. Lights are bouncing off its golden belly.

“Never have I ever played Twister by myself,” Dean smiles fondly at the memory.

Cas downs another shot. “Barely feel a thing,” he comments. “I _am_ an angel, you know.”

“We know, Cas,” Sam says, smiling fondly. “Never have I ever watched _Brokeback Mountain_ more than five times already and cried each time.”

Dean shoots him a look. He’ll get him for that one, later. 

After sufficient pause, he quickly nips his drink. Could be unrelated, could be he’s just thirsty.

Cas looks at him a few seconds too long before continuing.

“Never have I ever been hit in the groin at a Japanese game show,” Cas says, and Sam and Dean clink glasses, grinning broadly.

A much simpler time, that was. 

“Never have I ever… been a bit sassy at the Shadow,” Jack continues the round.

Cas, Jack and Dean drink, smiling to their own private jokes. 

Dean fixes Sam with a stern look. Time for revenge.

“Never have I ever behaved in such a way that people start to suspect I’m missing my own soul”, Dean says.

Sam looks a little hurt.

Serves him right for starting Lucifer’s favorite game, _Never have I ever_.

However, Dean feels a twinge in his stomach as Jack takes a hesitant sip.

  
He does, too.

Sam drinks and quickly moves on, though. Not one to give up easily. “Never have I ever given up an army for one man.”

“That one only applies to me, Sam,” Cas frowns. “You’re very bad at this game.”

“Oh really? Show me how it’s done,” Sam challenges.

Cas seems to take this into consideration. “Oh, I see what you’re doing, Sam.”

Sam raises his brows. “You do?”

Cas nods smugly. “Never have I ever… been deathly afraid of a yorkie.”

“Is this _Never have I ever_ , or a god damn roast?” Dean asks with a sly smile, taking a sip.

“I merely observed that you hadn’t had many chances to drink yet, Dean,” Cas says. “I figured the point of this game was consuming alcoholic beverages.”

Sam laughs. “Oh no, that’s only a nice side effect.”

Hm, come to think of it, maybe his anti possession tattoo stopped working?

Jack takes his turn. “Never have I ever driven the Impala without a driver’s licence.”

Him and Cas drink while Dean tries to murder them with his eyes.

“Never have I ever been completely banned from driving the Impala,” Dean says and stares at Cas and Jack until they drink.

They don’t.

Sam clears his throat.

“Never have I ever… kissed a human,” Sam says, smiling knowingly at Cas.

Dean’s heart leaps in his throat. 

What? 

Sam was never one for subtlety.

Dean keeps his eyes wide open as he takes a sip - heck, more like a whole ass _shot_ of whiskey. But Cas doesn’t move.

“You’re wrong, Sam,” Cas says, staring him down.

Dean scans his memory. There was of course, eh, Meg. Demon. And that woman who slept with him while he was human and ended up stabbing him… She was a reaper.

Suddenly, Dean feels very sad for Cas.

Cas looks down at his glass. He licks his upper lip. It’s his turn, but no sound comes out of the angel.

Is he… embarrassed?

“You’re allowed to ask…. naughtier questions, Cas,” Sam nudges him.

Cas flashes Sam a disturbed look. Then, the briefest of glances - at Dean.

Dean feels the alcohol rise to the back of his ears and stay there.

“Never have I ever…” Cas starts. “Never have I ever.”

He hesitates, and downs another drink even though it’s technically against the rules.

“Never have I ever kissed a man,” Cas says, keeping his eyes fixed on his whiskey glass.

Sam bursts out in laughter, and clinks Cas’ glass.

“You’re a natural at this, Cas,” Sam teases, and takes a swig.

Dean frowns. Oh, right. Sometimes he forgets Sam went to college. 

Then, he looks at his glass. He thinks of Benny. A vampire - not a man. So he could sit this one out. Stay safely hidden in plain sight. 

Or he could be brave. 

He could let Cas know… he could want… he _has_ wanted...

“Never have I ever had to cover up a hickey”, Jack says, before Dean can make up his mind. The moment is gone, the atmosphere changed.

He catches Cas looking at him, with what? Resignation, almost.

Dean drinks. 

No, no. This is going all wrong. 

This was supposed to reveal why Cas is mad at him, not make him even sadder.

So very _him_ to fuck up even a simple drinking game.

“Your turn now, Dean,” Sam says. Dean hasn’t even paid attention to who’s been drinking. And how does Jack know about hickeys anyway? Has he been leaving his computer unlocked again?

The cloudy haze in his mind starts to feel threatening. The alcohol finally catches up with Dean - like muscle memory, it takes him back to the weeks he spent trying to forget about Cas. The weeks his whole body felt ripped in half, missing an essential part. And now, he’s looking right at Cas, yet _still_ he cannot touch him. 

“I eh - I think this was a bad idea,” Dean says, shakily getting up.

“What?” Sam asks, frowning up at him. “We’ve barely started, you’ve drank only a few sips…”

“I don’t want to, Sam. Not…” Dean looks at Cas, who looks up at him completely stunned. “With… I just can’t.”

“Sorry about the yorkie joke,” Cas says.

“It’s not about that, Cas!” Dean raises his voice.

That scares even _him_. Suddenly he’s his dad again, drunkenly coming home. It’s his dad, smelling of brandy as he calls Dean a pansy because he’s crying over _The Lion King_. 

“Dean!“ Sam leaps to Cas’ defense, but Dean is already out the door. He doesn’t need to hear it. Not now.

Ten minutes later, Dean is still standing in his darkened room trying to calm down when the door behind him opens, a question in the shape of a crack.

Light falls in. A familiar silhouette. 

“Dean?” Cas asks.

Oh. So _now_ he talks to him?

“Don’t,” Dean says, but Cas finds a light switch and suddenly all is exposed.

They’re surrounded by empty bottles. Cas looks at them with an unbearable sadness in his eyes.

“I didn’t realise you were this… depressed,” Cas says, voice heavy.

Depressed? 

Dean shrugs, looking away uncomfortably. 

Maybe while Cas was reliving their final moments forever, well, so was Dean.

Dean puts his hands in his pockets.   
  


“I’m not-“

“Dean…”

Dean swallows. No. Not that… horrible softness in his voice. He is okay. He is okay.

“Tonight is the first time I’ve drank since you’ve been back.”

He looks at Cas. See? How okay he is?

Cas stares at him, as if he is trying to study him. “I don’t get you, Dean Winchester.”

Dean smirks. “That was clear from your speech.”

“No, don’t. Don’t do that. This is not about my speech, because I stand by every word, Dean.” Cas takes a step closer. “I mean, I know you don’t see me that way, but…”

“What?”

“Then I see this…” He gestures to the room.

“What do you mean?” Dean can feel himself quickly sobering up. 

Cas avoids his gaze, and moves closely past Dean to his desk. There, Dean’s coat is thrown over the chair. 

He’d normally hang that up neatly, but this life hasn’t exactly been normal, has it? Cut a man some slack in end times. 

Cas’ fingers hover over the dried up bloody handprint. 

“You should wash this.”

Dean shakes his head. “What are you doing here, Cas? Thought you were mad at me.”

“Mad?”

“You don’t talk to me. You… avoid looking at me.”

Cas swallows. “I thought you’d want your space. After… what I said.”

“Don’t you mean after what _I_ said?”

Cas tilts his head. “Yes, of course hearing you say those horrible things to me, hurt. And I do wonder if there was a truth in their core… but ultimately, my avoiding you hasn’t been about what you said then. It’s about what you said in the Empty.”

“What are you talking about?” Dean looks at Cas, and god, he wishes he could just turn the lights back off and disappear.

“You said, _I need you_.” 

This throws Dean. 

Was it too revealing?

But Cas continues, thoughtfully. “I always wondered about ‘I need you’… When I nearly killed you under the influence of heaven, that is what you said. Not _I love you_ , but _I need you_. At the time, it was a scrap and I took it, it released me from the hold heaven had over me, that’s how desperate I was for you. So when you told me you and Sam simply needed the strength of an angel…. used me…. it made sense. It clicked.”

Dean feels his heart shrink.

“And when you repeated it in the Empty… that’s when I knew. Where the truth was within your words, the ones I had heard repeated a thousand times in the Empty.”

Cas pauses, and seems to gather all his strength before continuing, a faint crack in his voice. “Of course you couldn’t ever hate me. But you couldn’t ever love me either.” 

“You got that from ‘I need you’?”

Cas looks away. “It’s okay, Dean. I wasn’t expecting you to love me in that way.” 

A sad smile crosses Cas’ face - this is the worst smile Dean has ever seen. 

“But I did expect the Empty to take me away so I’d never have to face you again… You see. Living here with you now, has been…. challenging. There’s nowhere to hide.”

Dean blinks quickly. “Are you ashamed?”

“No.”

“Then why -“

“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.” 

Dean swallows hard. He can’t believe this is how he’s made his friend feel, not his _friend_ , no, his… perhaps even…. of his life. 

“Come sit on the bed with me,” Dean requests, and Cas allows him to lead him by the hand. 

He looks at Cas’ face, perfectly framed by the soft light of the lamp. A much braver being than he ever will be. An angel, daring to go up against god himself for what he believes to be right.

“I remember every word of your speech, Cas, every syllable, I’ve played it over and over in my head.”

Cas tries to avert his gaze, but Dean raises his hand to Cas’ cheek. Softly he rubs his thumb across Cas’ jaw.

“Dean, don’t-“ Cas says.

“No, you listen to me now. You think you got me pegged in a little box, but it’s almost insulting. What, you think I am just chicks and cars and beer? That may be my dad’s vision for me, it definitely was Chuck’s vision for me, but it sure as hell ain’t mine, Cas.”

Dean lowers his hand to Cas’ neck, and gently strokes it. It’s almost too much, the love he feels coursing through his veins, pulsing through his handprint scar a hundred times stronger than the mark of Cain ever did.

“You told me yourself. I raised my little brother for love, I did everything for love. Do you remember all the things I’ve done for you? I let myself get beaten to a pulp just to heal you. I prayed to you every night in Purgatory. I made you a bloody mixtape.” Dean smiles at the memory. “I’d give up the whole world for you, Cas.”

Cas appears to have stopped breathing. 

Dean lifts his other hand to Cas’ cheek. 

“You called me ‘the most selfless, loving human being I will ever know’. But if you think I love so much, how could you never once include the possibility that this could mean I love _you_?”

A single tear slides from Cas’ eye, but Dean catches it with his thumb. 

“I love you, Cas.”

Cas was right. The happiness is in the saying. 

“I love you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I love all of you, I _want_ you. If you’ll have me.”

Cas cups Dean’s face with both hands, and draws him closer. They are holding each other’s cheeks and it feels like what Dean imagines tapping into grace must feel like. They are so close, so close. So tuned into the other, like touching life’s energy itself.

Cas lets out a shaky breath, only inches from Dean’s lips, before he leans in that final distance.

When their lips touch, Dean chokes back a whimper. It’s _Cas_ , and suddenly everything makes sense. Every tug on his heart whenever he saw Cas. Every hug that made him feel new kinds of warmth. 

He can feel Cas’ thumbs rubbing over his cheeks and only then he realises he’s crying. 

Though it’s not distress, not sadness. It’s peace.

Cas was wrong. The happiness is in the having.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this was the unplanned bonus chapter that totally ran away from me. I love misunderstandings, I love angsty drinking games. I hope you do too.
> 
> Thanks for reading <3


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